Cheeky Missy
Try Telling Another Poet
...who coulda guessed?
And to Think He Is a Poet Too
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCCLI)
Quip \"Happy May day!\" to learn that detail
Of ribbons and a party \'round fr\'intents
The maypole will not do e\'en in pretense,
Cuz he was born in June. Like to avail
Us of sich joys...?! or was there more in frail
Excuse that I\'d miss where he\'d answer thence
So oddly? Shall we ever meet \'gain? whence
Shelve this til later, and then whither\'s bail?
Rain falls in torrents like the storm in tour
Would shut aught down, yet nothing flickers through
Its rampage. Drive home as it lingers, stir
Both cleaning and our breakfast til maunt do
And I yield up to napping; maint\'nence cure
All problems til what\'s left is to seek You.
01May25a
...on love and romance.
Don\'t Look at Me, I\'m Drunk
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCCLII)
Frogs chorus in the darkness sweetest scents
Waft through as if romance owns aught detail
Now tis May first, oh me! Just to inhale
Is to cull swooning til I\'ve no defense
Where night\'d intox\'cate in a trice, good sense
As wont in lover\'s trysts quite perished, frail
Though aught \'scuse when you\'ve nary hope t\'avail
Upon the clock--is\'t lilacs?! or what hence?
Eat salad after hours, \"spring mix\" as t\'were
With olives, shrooms, tomatoes, onions, to
Effect a treat, potato chips to cure
Aught cravings, what I want is to yield \'new
Where romance tugs upon my sleeve: is\'t poor?
Were not sweet odours meant to thereby woo?
01May25b